Embrace
by Brunosaurs4
Summary: A series (hopefully) of Beruyumi oneshots. (Cuz this pairing does not get enough love :D)
1. Embrace

**So I wrote this for Beruyumi week, cuz this is one of my favorite ships and it doesn't have many fics. It's kinda short, but I hope you people like it.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan).**

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**EMBRACE**

Reiner was finally asleep. It was an uneasy sleep to be sure, but at least he had some measure of peace now. Watching over him, Bertholdt felt like breaking down into tears again. For the millionth, billionth time, he wished that things hadn't turned out like this- that they'd just been ordinary soldiers, and not mass-murderers who'd been forced to betray their blood-brothers. That Annie wasn't stuck in some torture dungeon, and Reiner still had his sanity.

Sitting on the edge of Wall Maria, Bertholdt buried his face in his hands, letting his tears flow freely. They were alone now, him and Reiner and Ymir, with the Survey Corps behind and the titans ahead. And, if they even got to their village in one piece, Ymir would probably be killed. The thought sent a stab of fear through his heart. He knew that he had fallen in love with Ymir, and the thought of her dying for his sake- more murders being committed for them- abhorrent.  
Hunching over, he choked back a sob, hating himself for being so weak.

"Bertl?" It was Ymir. She sat down next to him, dangling her legs over the wall, and sighed. Her bare foot was smoking. He looked away, wiping his eyes. They sat in silence.

"The moon seems nice tonight, doesn't it?" Ymir said, after a while. Bertholdt looked at her. She looked strangely… peaceful, she even had a small smile.  
"How can you be so calm at a time like this?" He demanded tearfully. Ymir gave a short laugh.

"What the hell else do you want me to do?" She said, leaning back on her arms. "Cry and tear at my clothing?"

"No, but- you-" Bertholdt shook his head. An angry ran down his cheek. Ymir leaned over and wiped it away.  
"Stop crying, Bertl," she said, almost softly. Bertholdt nodded.

"Sorry, he said, taking a deep breath, "that's all I'm good for doing, crying and… being a mess."

"We're all a mess," Ymir said shortly. "Not just you."

"Are you kidding me!" Bertholdt exclaimed. "How- the others aren't liars! They are weak-willed idiots, murderers, monsters! I-I was the one who broke the wall, it's my fault!" He trailed off… and looked at his hands. "It's my fault," he repeated brokenly.

And Ymir hugged him. She just leaned over, pulling him in her arms. He buried his face into her shoulder, not bothering to hide his tears now. All he wanted to do was to feel her arms around him, feel her closeness, and revel in it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this."  
Ymir laughed. "That's not your fault," she said, nuzzling his ear, "I-I'm a shitty person too. You guys are the ones who helped me out. This is my chance to pay you back."

"By giving up your life?" Bertholdt said, drawing back, and looking at her in surprise. "Don't do this, Ymir. You're- you're not a bad person. You're kind, and… you're good."

In response, Ymir poked him in the nose. "And you're not a bad person yourself, Bertholdt," she said, with a grin reminiscent of old times. "You stayed strong, for Reiner. And in your own way, I guess you're doing your duty."

"But-"

"Shut up." She leaned forward, their foreheads touching. "Don't talk. For tonight… lets just stay this way."

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**Please review! :D**


	2. Fight

**Second Chapter!**

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Bertholdt licked his lips nervously. In front of him, some distance away, Ymir stood with her arms folded, grinning. The wooden knife they were supposed to be wrestling each other over was clasped loosely in her hand. All around them, the other trainees were busy in their hand-to-hand training.

"So, Bertholdt," Ymir called out, dropping her hands to her sides. "Ready?"

Bertholdt nodded. "Yeah," he answered. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what to do. Hand-to-hand wasn't something he'd ever needed to learn. He took up a defensive pose, then ran at Ymir. She responded by turning her back to him and hunching over, then elbowed him in the chest.

Wincing, Bertholdt stepped back. Ymir responded by trying to kick him. It caught him in the chest, but there wasn't much force in it; Ymir was clearly off balance, and the kick sent both of them staggering.

Bertholdt regained his footing and looked over at Ymir. She grinned and waved the knife tauntingly.

"Come and get it," she said in a sing song voice.

He frowned. Some of Annie's fighting came to his mind, little bits and pieces of it. Raising his fists determinedly, he charged at Ymir, and punched her in the face.

With a yelp, Ymir half-spun and fell over.

Bertholdt looked happy for about two seconds before he realized what he'd done.

"Ymir?" he said nervously, taking a step forward. "A-are you alright?"

"Urgh," Ymir groaned, sitting up and rubbing her cheek, which had seemed to taken the burnt of the blow. She looked at Bertholdt and said: "Ow."

"I'm sorry!" Bertholdt said panicking. He'd hit her too hard! "I didn't mean it!"

"Nah, it's okay," Ymir said, waving him off. Getting up, she picked up the knife and handed it to him. "Congratulations. You win."

"Uh…" hesitantly, Bertholdt took the knife. Still rubbing her cheek, Ymir walked away.

Bertholdt usually always liked to watch the sunset over the training grounds. It was a cheesy thing, but standing on the porch of their little huts, it gave him the feeling that he was home. But on this occasion, he was feeling upset. He still felt ashamed over hitting Ymir. It was only a training exercise, it wasn't even important for their scores. Was she mad at him?

As he leaned against the railings, frowning worriedly, he saw Ymir and Krista coming towards him. As he was standing outside the dining hall, he assumed that they were heading for dinner. He flushed at the thought of seeing Ymir face to face again, wondering if she was upset. For a second he actually considered vaulting over the railings and running away.

As both girls came up the steps, he croaked suddenly: "Ymir?"

Both girls stopped and looked at him.

"I'd like to talk to you," he said, licking his lips.

Ymir gave him a searching look, then smirked. Krista nodded and smiled pleasantly.

"Alright. I'll be inside," she told Ymir.

Bertholdt watched as Krista walked away. Ymir took a few steps towards him, and leaned against one of the wooden supports. "Yeah?" she said, in a neutral voice.

"I- about today," Bertholdt began, well aware that he was sweating horribly. "I-I'm sorry I hit you."

"Hmph." Lifting her hand, Ymir rubbed her cheek again. Bertholdt noticed a dark, angry bruise there, and another wave of embarrassment washed over him.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated, running his hand through his hair nervously. "I-I got caught up in the moment, I didn't mean to get violent. I'm really, really sorry."

"No problem," Ymir said with a shrug. "I'll let it go this time. You owe me one, though."

Bertholdt nodded anxiously. "So… you're not mad?" he asked.

"No," she said, rubbing her cheek. "I'm quite surprised, actually. I didn't realize you packed such a punch." She gave him a grin. "But it's okay, I don't mind roughing it up."

Bertholdt's eyes widened. "I-I- no-" he stammered incoherently, turning red as a tomato. Ymir laughed.

"You embarrass easily, don't you?" she said, grinning. Reaching over, she patted him on the cheek. "Well, you look cute when you do."


	3. Together

There was a hush over the Survey Corps Headquarters. The expedition to capture the Female Titan had been a complete failure, and as a result half the Survey Corps were dead. Those that survived had managed to do so by the skin of their teeth, and were trying to cope with the loss.

Krista was bandaging up Sasha's leg. Across the room, Ymir watched her. Krista was trying to hold up, but it was clear that the younger girl was shaken. Ymir felt a stab of irritation. _Krista's so… self-sacrificing_, she thought. _She's too good._ _To everyone. _It irritated her, for some reason.

Angrily, she got up and went outside. It had not been a heavily populated place to begin with, and now, it seemed practically deserted. Feeling restless, she wandered around, remembering the ill-fated trip. She remembered the moment the Female Titan had come running out of nowhere, straight at them. The way she'd curb stomped the whole flank, leaving the remains for the other titans to eat. She remembered her own fear at that moment, the irrational panic at the thought that she might die.

_I am a titan_, she told herself. _If push comes to shove, I turn, and_… and what? Once she transformed, everyone would know what she was. And she would be trapped. She never, ever wanted to return to that hideous nightmare again.

Ymir growled with frustration. She felt confused, angry, sad. She wasn't sure what she felt, what she wanted, whose side she was on.

It wasn't till she heard the soft whinnying of the horses that she realized that she had wandered to the stables. They were empty, the guy who'd managed them having been killed. Ymir's face twisted at the thought. He'd seemed like a good guy, and she couldn't _even remember his name_. Angrily, she kicked at a stone. It hit the side of one of the stalls loudly. There was the sound of something falling over from behind the stable.

Frowning, Ymir walked around them. There were some boxes there. Bertholdt was sitting on top of them, his legs pulled to his chest, his arms around them. He looked at her, startled. Ymir stared back at him.

"Hey," she said. "Hiding, huh."

Bertholdt's expression changed; he looked grim. "Yes," he said, in a low voice. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Ymir said, with a shrug. "I just… couldn't stay there."

Bertholdt nodded and looked away, hugging his knees tighter. "I'm a warrior," he said, in a low voice, "I shouldn't be feeling like this."

Ymir gave a small laugh. "Hey, feelings like these are what make us human, right?" she said. Bertholdt looked up at her.

"Human…" he said, and there was bitterness in his voice. "There isn't much place for a human in this world, is there? They… all die so soon."Ymir didn't say anything.

She didn't want to think of his words, how they were probably true, how tomorrow they could all probably be dead, just like the others. Strong meant nothing amongst the humans, Levi's squad had been the strongest, and they'd been squashed like flies.

Watching Bertholdt idly, she wondered how long it would be before he was killed. He was attractive, she realized, tall and strong and broad-shouldered. Watching the muscles flex as he tensed his arms, the fine sheen of sweat over his face and neck, she felt the burning in her skin increase. She wanted him, wanted him to fuck her brains out. Almost without thinking, she reached over, and pulled him into a kiss.

He inhaled sharply, his body growing rigid. His arms snaked around her waist, slowly at first, then tightened as their kiss deepened. Ymir threaded her fingers through his hair, hungrily pulling him closer. She pushed him down, straddling him, trying to pull off his jacket. Bertholdt's own hands were running up and down her back, under her shirt. His lips left her mouth, feverishly trailing kissing down her neck.

She didn't want to think about what she was doing. She didn't care. Tomorrow, probably, she would feel different, but at that moment, all that mattered was him, the feel of his body against hers as she descended into blissful oblivion.


	4. Drunk

Wow, I can't believe I wrote another chapter! If anyone's still left out there reading this, thanks so much for sticking it out.

**Disclaimer: Still don't own SnK.**

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**DRUNK**

It was a warm night, and Bertholdt was sweating profusely. Blinking in an effort to keep the sweat out of his eyes, he continued sweeping out the kitchen floor.  
It had been a few days since the trainees had been inducted into the Survey Corps. After arriving at the headquarters, the first thing they'd been told was that they had to keep the place clean. "Get it dirty and I'll feed your ass to the titans," was what the Lance-Corporal had told them, and by the way Eren had leapt to attention, it was clear that the warning was not to be taken lightly.  
Behind him, Ymir was washing up the dishes, having been picked to be his cleaning partner for the night. The two of them worked in silence, the only sounds being the running of the water and the clink of the dishes.  
Bertholdt sighed, wiping his face. He still felt a upset about Annie's defection to the Military Police. He had always known that Annie never considered him or Reiner her friends, not to mention their whole mission- but still, it'd been a blow.  
"Bertl?"  
Bertholdt looked up. Ymir was watching him, eyebrows raised. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You've been standing there sighing for like, a minute. Hurry up; I wanna go to bed."  
Bertholdt nodded hurriedly. With another sigh, he quickened his pace a little.  
Ymir however, continued to watch him speculatively. "You're thinking of Annie, aren't you?" She said suddenly. Bertholdt started, nearly tripping over his broom.  
"What?! No!" he exclaimed, his cheeks turning red. Ymir grinned.  
"Yeah you are," she drawled, leaning back against the counter, arms folded. "I've seen you looking at her. And you've got that dreamy look in your eyes that Sasha gets when she's thinking of food."  
Bertholdt opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, trying to think of a denial. "No- no, I'm not!" He stuttered finally. "I-I don't look at her, or anything! And my face is-is fine!"  
"Yeah, and I'm the queen of Wall Sina," Ymir retorted. Bertholdt gave her a distressed look, turning away to hide how red his face had become.  
"Lets just get this over with," he muttered. Ymir snorted, but turned away, resuming her dish-washing. Bertholdt slowly let out his breath. He felt embarrassed. His feelings for Annie were... complicated. He liked looking at her, but sometimes talking to her scared him, and he wasn't even sure of whether she was aware of his existence outside of 'Colossal Titan'.  
They continued on in silence. Bertholdt finished his sweeping and started to make sure that the chairs and benches were all in their proper places, while Ymir put away the cutlery. He was pushing the benches to their proper places when she let out an exclamation.  
"Hey! Look at this!"  
Bertholdt turned to look at her. She was standing in front of an open cupboard, holding a dark bottle.  
"Its a half-finished bottle of wine," She explained, looking up and giving him a grin. "Nice, huh?"  
Bertholdt frowned. It probably belongs to one of the senior members," he said, turning back to his work. "You should put it back."  
Ymir's grin widened. "Oh no," she said, shutting the cupboard door. Bertholdt jumped when he felt her slide an arm around his shoulder. "We have to cheer you up, don't we? _I _ think this is the perfect way to do it."  
Bertholdt gave her a worried look. "I don't need cheering up," he said, trying to disengage himself. "And besides, what if the lance corporal finds out? He's going to be very angry."  
"Aw, who's gonna tell him, Bertl?" Ymir said, leaning close conspiratorially. "Don't be so afraid. We fight titans for a living; a teeny tiny human can't hurt us any more than that. So man up and take a swig."

Bertholdt flushed. He didn't really want to drink. But he'd alway had trouble saying no, and Ymir's insistence was chipping away at what little resolve he had. With a sigh, he took the bottle from Ymir and took a small sip. Ymir hooted, snatched the bottle from him and took a long swig herself.  
"Great!" She said, sounding exulted. She took another gulp, then pushed the bottle back at Bertl.  
"Take another," she urged. Bertholdt made a face.  
"Uh..."  
"Come ooon, Bertl, do it!" Ymir pushed him against the wall, pressing the bottle to his chest. "And take a big one this time, really get a taste of it!"  
Bertholdt looked at the bottle, and sighed.  
Well, he was going to die anyway.

The older members of the Survey Corps stood at the door, staring at the two figures standing on the table.

"Let it gooooo, let it goooo, can't-can't hold me back anymore!" Ymir swayed dizzily, brandishing a bottle over her head.

"Let it gooo... turn away and slammm the door!" Bertholdt sang in a more sombre voice, flinging out his arms. He tried to take a step and nearly fell over.

Eren, the only younger member present, gaped. Beside him, Levi stood, his eyes slightly wide. It was the first time he'd ever seen the lance-corporal _surprised_.

"I don't care!"

"What they're going to say!"

"Let the storm rage onnnn!

"I can't remember the rest of it!"

Behind him, someone snorted. It seemed to snap Levi out of his shock. He strode towards the two drunk soldiers.

"Get down from there!" He yelled.

Bertholdt responded by falling off the table.

"Bertl?" Ymir looked down at her fallen comrade, seemingly horrified. "You killed him!"  
"Get. Off." Levi told her sharply. She stared at him for a moment then stumbled down to the ground. Bertholdt pushed himself up on his arms and regarded Levi with fear.

"I knew we were going to get into trouble," he whispered fearfully. Levi gave him the flat look that signified how pissed off he was.

Ymir frowned at Levi. "So what?" She said loudly, "We're going to die anyway!"

There was a pause. Bertholdt struggled to his feet andYmir tried to focus enough to glare at Levi. Finally Levi shook his head.  
"Go to bed, both of you," he said.  
Bertholdt gave him a fearful look and bolted out of the kitchen as quickly and steadily as he could. Ymir followed a little more slowly, bumping into a few people as she tried to walk straight.

"Told you nothing would happen!" Ymir said exultantly, walking up the stairs. She tried to cheer, but teetered and gripped the banisters.  
Bertholdt said nothing. He was having trouble focusing. One part of him was telling him exactly how screwed he was, and how the Commander and Lance-Corporal were probably going to kill him tomorrow.  
The other part was telling him how... _beautiful_, Ymir was. Her hair gleamed in the weak torchlight, and her skin looked soft and dark and inviting. He couldn't help but notice how her body... curved. Curved in _extremely_ enticing ways. He blinked, holding onto the railings tightly in case he fell down the stairs and broke his neck.  
Ymir walked on ahead, unaware of the effect she was having. They reached the landing and she put one hand on the wall to support herself. _She had such long, delicate fingers_, Bertholdt thought, then shook his head. _Shut up._  
"Hey, Bertl?" Ymir said, once they reached the door to their rooms. "Thanks for tonight. It- I had fun." She let out a small laugh. "Or what passes for fun around here." She laughed and nearly fell over, grabbing onto his shirt. "You're not so bad." Unsteadily, she reached up and kissed him.

Bertholdt blinked. Lips were soft, and they tasted of wine. She leaned in close, putting both arms around his neck, letting out a small moan. Bertholdt lightly placed a hand on her back, unsure of what to do. Inwardly, he was panicking, his mind running in tiny circles around the fact that _a girl_ was kissing him, actually kissing him.

Then she pulled away. Bertholdt instinctively leaned in after her, but she stepped back, smiling.

"Goodnight," she said, waving at him, before turning away and going into her room. Bertholdt stood still, staring at her door, wondering exactly what had happened. He wasn't sure if it was the wine or his own hormones that were making images come in his mind, extremely inappropriate images that made him sweat even more. Images of Ymir, undressed, with-

"You!"

Bertholdt jumped and spun around. Levi was standing at the head of the stairs, arms folded. "Aren't you going to bed?" he demanded.

"I-" Bertholdt nodded and entered his room, his head still swimming with wine and one, very enigmatic woman.


	5. Fright

So, Beruyumi week has started out again! I'm gonna be adding what I write here as well :)

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**Fright**

It was ridiculous to be afraid, Bertholdt thought. It was a forest, true, it was dark, there were sounds coming out of there, odd, unexplainable sounds, but that was the nature of forests, right?

Right?

_You're overreacting_, he told himself._ Its just a forest! There's nothing there! You're learning to fight titans for a living! You ARE a titan! You can take on whatever is in there!_

But one tiny point was that he was supposed to be undercover, which meant that if a pack of wolves or bears or bloodthirsty ghosts came charging in, he couldn't transform into anything and would have to sit there and let them hack him to pieces. And besides, he wasn't really sure how effective a titan would be against a ghost.

Don't think about it, he thought, don't think about the-

"Ghosts!"

Bertholdt jumped, letting out an undignified squeak. Beside him, Reiner dropped the piece of wood he was whittling with a curse.

"Ymir!" He exclaimed. "Don't do that!"  
On the other side of the fire, Ymir laughed. "Oh come on, Reiner, its just a bit of fun," she said, grinning. "Besides, you like a stories I tell you. Right, Krista?"

Krista, who'd been stirring their dinner over the fire, looked up apologetically. "Um... I don't know," she said, "they do get kind of macabre sometimes."

Ymir gave her an affectionate smile. "Oh, if you say so," she said, leaning back against a tree trunk. "But I still think they're fun. And don't tell me you guys didn't like to see Bertholdt screaming like a girl." Bertholdt gave her a distressed look, then blushed as she winked at him in return.

Reiner glared at Ymir. "We're running out of firewood," he said abruptly. "Since you're feeling so lively Ymir, why don't you go and get some?"

Ymir made a face. "Alright, fine, whatever," she said,standing up. "Bertl, come on."  
"What?" Bertholdt exclaimed. "Why me?"  
Ymir shrugged. "You're not scared, are you?" she taunted, grinning.

Bertholdt opened his mouth, then clsoed it again, starting to blush. He looked at Reiner, who shrugged, then stood up.  
"Okay," he said, trying to sound indifferent. "They're just a bunch of stories anyway."

It sounded pathetic, even to his ears.

The woods were extremely dark and even noisier away from the campfire. There was no moon, and even if there had been, it wouldn't have been of any use since the dense canopy of leaves overhead shut everything out. By contrast, the floor of the forest was covered with every kind of shrub and bush imaginable, so that you couldn't step anywhere without getting your foot stuck into something. The only thing it lacked was good strong dry wood- the one thing they needed.

The two of them walked by the light of one measly lantern that Ymir had, looking around carefully for any firewood they might find. Bertholdt was aware that there were things flying around his head, and he could have sworn that something had slithered past his foot.

"Ugh!" Ymir said suddenly, and Bertholdt nearly fell over. "I stepped on something!"  
"What? What is it?"he demanded.

"Something... squishy," Ymir answered, grimacing. "Ugh. I don't know what it is."

'Lets... just get some firewood, okay?" Bertholdt said, "then we can get back to the camp."

Ymir raised an eyebrow. "Really, Bertl?" She said, putting a hand on her hip. "You're really scared of those stories? You know what you're here for right? I mean, you're you gonna fight titans if you can't even take a ghost on?"

"There's a difference!" Bertholdt exclaimed. "Titans are... titans, and ghosts are ghosts!"  
"Very convincing argument, I must say," Ymir said sarcastically. "You got me _right_ there."  
Bertholdt looked resentful. "I- where do you find those stories anyway?" He demanded, folding his arms.

Ymir looked away. "Nowhere," she said. "Just here and there. Now, do you wanna get the firewood, or you wanna wait for bigfoot to get us?" She walked on a little distance before Bertholdt had a chance to say anything else- not that he had a snappy comeback in mind. He followed her before she could take the only source of light away from him, his eyes on the ground for any branches, when Ymir gave another yelp.

"What?" Bertholdt exclaimed, jumpily.

"Nothing!" Ymir looked at him, startled. "Notihng. I just- ah!"

Berthodt spun around. Their campfire could be seen in the distance. He looked back at Ymir, confused, when he saw it. A ghostly white figure sitting up high on a branch.

"Ymir!" He hissed. "Behind you."

Ymir turned, and immediatly took a step back. The figure jumped up and disappeared into the shadows.

"What the-" Ymir breathered. "Its gotta be one of the trainers."

"Uh... do the trainers have white and glowy clothing?" Bertholdt asked, a tremor in his voice, as another figure flitted through the trees. A groan sounded around them, followed by a couple of bloodcurdling howls.

"Aagh!" Ymir clutched his shirt. "Lets uh, lets go back," an edge of nervousness in her voice. "I'm sure there is an explanation; lets go... ask Reiner what it is."

Even though he himself was feeling scared, Bertholdt couldn't help but say: "Scared now, huh?"

Ymir glared at him before racing back to the camp. The two of them burst out into the firelight too see Reiner and Krista holding up their blades.

"W-whats going on?" Ymir demanded.

"You heard it too?" Krista asked, her eyes wide.

"Heard it _and_ saw it," Ymir answered, pulling out her own blades.

"Any idea what it was?" Renier said, just as someone poured a whole lot of water over the fire, putting it out entirely.

There was a scream, which was cut off suddenly.

"Krista!" Ymir yelled. Wet and scared and blind, Bertholdt lashed out wildly, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Eerie white shapes darted out from the woods, howling and groaning. Panicking, he felt someone grab him jacket and pull him into the woods, away from the monsters.

"Shut up, we can't let them get us," came Ymir's voice. Bertholdt steadied himself, nodded (evn though she couldn't see it) and ran behind her. They stumbled behind a large boulder and crouched there, squinting to make out their surroundings.

"What is going on?" Ymir whispered. "Wheres Krista? And Reiner?"

"I don't know!" Bertholdt answered, trying to keep from screaming. "And I'd say ghosts but then you don't believe in ghosts!"

"Why do you listen to me? I'm stupid!" Ymir hissed back at him. There was another howl from nearby, followed by a high-pitched giggle. Both of them clutched each other.

"Oh crap," Ymir groaned. "There's another one!"

There were, in fact, several of them. They were surrounded.

"Oh no," Bertholdt breathed, looking around fearfully. He gripped Ymir's hand, pulling her close. "We can fight this."

He felt her squeeze his hand in return. "Uh-huh."

One of the figures came closer, a low moan emanating from it. "_Humans, you have despoiled this land_," it quavered. "_You have dared to_-ack!" The 'ghost' fell down suddenly, with a very loud, very human thud.

"Ugh, Connie! I knew you would mess it up!" Another one of the 'ghosts' exclaimed, sounding very much like Jean.

Bertholdt and Ymir stared at the fallen ghost, who finally manage to dislodge himself from a torn white sheet. "Connie?" Ymir said, shocked.

"Haha, you guys really freaked out, didn't you?" Sasha crowed, removing her sheet as well. The other ghosts took off their sheets to reveal the rest of the squad: Mina, Thomas and Marco, all of them grinning broadly.

"Sheets," Thomas said, holding up the offending items, "and lanterns. No ghosts."

"What the hell?" Ymir stood up, looking outraged. "What the hell was that?!"

"We were close to your camp," Connie explained, "And we heard you scaring the others. So we thought we'd scare you a little bit ourselves." His grin widened. "You should have seen your faces."

Mina laughed. "We didn't really expect you all to get that scared," she said. "Honestly, we thought you'd see through it."

Ymir glared at them. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Bertholdt: "Why me?" He asked, confused. "Why'd you scare me too?"  
"Well, you were... collateral damage," Jean said, sheepishly. "It was sort of a heat of the moment plan; we were thinking of tipping Reiner and Krista off, but you were a goner the minute you decided to go with Ymir."

Ymir huffed. She took a step towards Connie who backed away hurriedly. "...Fine," she said, folding her arms. "You win this round. But be prepared for the repercussions." She looked around. "And where's Krista?"

"Krista and Reiner are at our camp," Marco said, pointing towards their right. "Eren, Armin and Mikasa took them there; we also have food." He gave them a smile. "As a concession."

Ymir shrugged, then slowly grinned. "Then lead the way," she said. The others smiled as well; they picked up their stuff and started heading towards camp. Ymir looked back at Bertholdt, who still had a shell-shocked look on his face.

"Okay, Bertl?" she asked, falling in step with him. Bertholdt nodded. "Oh yes," he said. "it was just... intense."

Ymir grinned, taking his hand. "Thanks for, uh 'staying' with me," she remarked. Bertholdt looked at her and gave her a weak smile.

"Anytime," he said.


	6. Hardship

**Day 3!**

**This is short (and kinda weird)**

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They were tired and hungry and scared out of their minds. The three children huddled in a corner of the street, too tired to care who saw them or what they did. Annie had managed to get a piece of bread, but that wasn't even close to being sufficient for three starved children, especially ones who were titan shifters.

Bertholdt sat with his knees pulled close to his chest, trying to keep from crying. He didn't know how they were going to survive the next few days, let alone long enough to carry out their plan. He didn't feel like he could move, he just wanted to curl up and die.

"We need more food," Annie said quietly. She was the youngest and smallest, looking like a small doll as she sat with her limbs pulled close to her. Yet there was nothing doll-like about her eyes, which looked dead with exhaustion. "Can you go?" She asked Reiner, who was leaning with his head agains the wall, his eyes closed.

"...yeah," he answered slowly, his breathing labored. "Just... give me... a minute."

Annie raised an eyebrow, looking quizzically at Bertholdt. He touched his friend on the arm, then sighed.  
"You stay here... I'll go," he said, his voice trembling. "I'll find something."

Annie looked doubtful. "Are you sure?" She asked. "I-I-"

"I'll go," Bertholdt said, standing up slowly. His legs felt shaky, he felt like he had been running a million miles (which, in a way, he had) but he knew that both Annie and Reiner were more exhausted than him, and that unless he got something, they wouldn't be able to make it.

The city was confusing and scary to him. It was the first time he'd been alone, he felt terrified in case he got caught by someone. _Where do we even find food anyway? _he thought miserably. Supplies were sparse, and the soldiers jealously guarded the food stores, preventing people from stealing them. As Bertholdt walked through the crowds he bumped into several people, who rudely pushed him out of their way.

When he finally got to the food line, his heart sank. They were only giving out a tiny piece of bread to every person, impervious to pleas of others being too weak or injured to walk. Those who couldn't move were useless, and therefore considered a drain on their resources. Bertholdt got into the line, chewing on his lips, sweating profusely. He felt like he had a large mark on his forehead branding him as a titan, and that any moment everyone would see it and would capture and kill him. He started to tremble, feeling nauseous. The line, despite everything,moved fast, and very soon, he was at the head of it. The soldier in charge pushed a piece of bread at him without even looking at him- who cared about one miserable kid amongst thousands? Bertholdt took a deep breath.

"Please, I-" He began.

"Move." The officer told him.

"I-"

He was pushed, suddenly and harshly, so that he fell to the ground. The bread fell out of his hand, rolling some distance away. Even as Bertholdt got to his feet, a young girl picked it up, and ran away with it.

"NO!" The yell came out involuntarily. People looked around, startled, but for once, Bertholdt didn't care. He had to get that bread back! They would starve without it!

He ran after the girl, chasing her on leaden legs. Luckily, the streets were too crowded, and the girl herself was a slow runner. She ran clumsily on, twisting and turning this way and that in an attempt to lose him, but he stayed doggedly on her trail, well aware that he was probably hopelessly lost by now, but knowing that he couldn't, simply _couldn't_ afford to lose the bread. Forcing himself onward, he caught up to her, flinging himself at her and knocking her to the ground.

"Give it back!" He yelled, trying to snatch the bread from her hand. She fought back, struggling and scratching at him in an attempt to escape.

"Screw you!" she yelled, "Get lost!" Suddenly, she kicked at him, catching him squarely in the stomach, then swung her fist at his face. Gasping, Bertholdt fell to the ground, blood rushing out his nose.

_Turn... kill them..._

"Leave me alone!" She screamed at him, before running off. Bertholdt looked up.

"No!" Staggering up, he pulled at her leg, brining her down. "Give it back!" He clambered on top of her, pinning her down. "We need it," he sobbed. "We'll starve."

"So will I," she hissed. For the first time, he looked down at her; a small, dark girl, with dirty black hair and angry eyes.

She was the enemy anyway.

He punched her, his blow stunning her still. Then he reached out for the piece of bread.

There were two of them. Two pieces. They could use those.

"Whats going on?" Voices came from behind them; grown up voices. Bertholdt looked back, startled. The girl used the chance to fling him off.

"Keep your stupid bread!" She hissed at him. Bertholdt turned to see her running away. A single piece of bread lay on the ground. Hurriedly, he picked it up, and went back to find the others. He found them much later, almost unconscious with hunger. He sank down next to them, offering them the dirt-ridden piece of bread.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "This was all I could get."

They looked at him, and took the bread without any further words, cleaning it off and sharing it the best they could. Bertholdt turned his face away from the others, trying to hide the blood and tears on his face, and the despair in his heart.


End file.
